


The Leftover Pieces

by thethinkingfruit



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Gen, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:52:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethinkingfruit/pseuds/thethinkingfruit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From an AU that I never got around to finish writing, where my MU, Alecto, was raised in Plegia like originally intended, and the results of that change in the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Leftover Pieces

          The portrait arrived suddenly, but not surprisingly. Gangrel knew that his advisors would eventually pick a wife for him—one that he would not be able to dodge, like the countless other noblewomen they had thrown upon him for him to discard shortly afterwards, for one reason or another. The engagement never lasted long enough for he and his bride to be wed.

          Not that he minded. Gangrel was convinced that he had no use for a queen. It was not until the pressure of his advisers finally made him crumble for his particular woman.

          “Her father is leader of the Grimleaf,” an adviser pleaded. “And by wedding her, you would get the royal house of Plegia on their good side, as well as on Grima’s.”

          “Bah,” he replied, waving his hand. “We have more important matters to attend to. Like the war that still stains our soils.”

          “She is a gifted tactician and fighter, both in sword and magic,” another adviser hissed. “It would be wise to have her working for us, than working against us.”

          “We already have a fairly competent tactician—me,” Gangrel replied, waving his other hand.

          “But sire—her father has already sent a portrait!” a third cried. “He demands that you at least consider her. And…if I do say so myself…” He trailed off, and coughed. “I think she would be an excellent addition to the household.”

          Gangrel paused at this. It was rare to see his advisers so flustered, and all agreeing at the same time. Then, he motioned the third adviser forward, as well as the two servants who were holding a rather weighty portrait. It was covered with a canvas, hiding his potential bride’s face.

          “Show me,” he insisted. The servants set it down while the adviser drew away the portrait’s canvas. At first glance, he was not impressed. Her hair was shorter, like a man’s, and she was not smiling. She looked as if she had been forced into having the portrait painted, and glowered at Gangrel like he was the fault of all of this nonsense.

          “Hmph. She does not look very impressive.”

          “Perhaps, but if we have the Grimleaf on our side and an excellent tactician, we can push the Ylisseans back. We could even possibly start worrying about Valm, and everything that occurs across the seas.”

          “One issue at a time,” Gangrel decided. He gazed at the portrait. “…Hm. Write her father, tell her I wish to meet her in person.”

          “Truly, your grace?” the third adviser asked.

          “Yes. See that she is brought here…I wish to meet her, as meet her father. We may discuss the details after I have deemed her…acceptable.”

          A date was set, a month from the day, for when she would arrive.  The entire month, for the first time since he had become king, Gangrel found himself nervous. There was much planning to do, as well as accommodations. He fought with designers and textile workers, trying to devise the perfect room for her. He had never cared this much for impressing a woman, but the portrait had put him on edge. She had not smiled at him. Instead, she stared into the depths of his soul, challenging him. Even up to the day before she arrived, he was perfecting everything. Nobles gathered to meet this woman, to see the possible future queen of Plegia, but Gangrel was more impatient than the rest of them. He was ready to meet his match, to meet the queen behind the portrait.

          The day of her arrival, he was absolutely restless. He donned his best and waited, pacing the palace walls. It was not until the sun was slowly setting against the golden sands around the palace that the trumpets sounded. Gangrel, weary of waiting, raised his head as a plain wagon slowly rolled in front of the palace gates. The other nobles behind him murmured in surprise when it came to its boring looks. The wood had been warped and worn by the sands, and the wheels creaked underneath its weight. The horses looked exhausted and the driver was absolutely sweltering.

          "Sir Validar has arrived, priest of Grima,” a herald proclaimed, and the door swung open. The man was thin, with sharp features that could cut stone. Clad with gold and thin silks, Gangrel found himself unimpressed. _Pious indeed,_ he thought bitterly. He was impatiently waiting for his bride.

          “And has Lady Aversa, daughter of Sir Validar, priestess of Grima.” Following her father, Aversa’s silver hair offset her black clothing. She was well endowed, and looked absolutely nothing like him. Gangrel wondered for a brief moment why she was not the one he was wedding—he would not have minded for her to keep his bed warm.

          “And finally, Lady Alecto.” No titles followed after her name, much to Gangrel’s surprise. Aversa and Validar waited, just as impatiently as Gangrel did, until a smaller figure finally emerged from the plain wagon.

          She kept herself covered, and her robes were plain. Alecto’s cloak was of black, thin silk, and the gold melded with the purple. Large lips and calculating eyes scanned the nobles gazing back at her, and she required no help being pulled from the carriage, ignoring hands that were offered. She pulled herself across the sand, her long black cloak dragged the golden sand behind her. Her father and sister followed behind her, as she approached him.

 _She’s pretty,_ Gangrel thought, _in a sweet way._

          Alecto scanned the crowed, until her eyes fell on him. She showed no sign of approval or dismay, but instead of waiting for him to be announced, she approached him. Validar hissed warning to her and Aversa went to grab her, but she went right up to him, and curtsied.

          “Your grace.”

          A proper woman, a noble woman, would have waited, would have cooed or cast away her eyes, but she dared to look him in the face. Then she stood tall, gazing up at him, face held proud. His future wife would not cower at him, or any of the lords.

          Gangrel smiled, before he knelt. He held out his hand and she reached hers out, before he captured it, and lightly pressed his lips against her bare knuckles.

          “My queen,” he replied.

          He was lucky enough to be graced with a smile. It was a shy, small one, spreading her features to look kindly, before he rose. The nobles were staring, but he did not care. Carefully, he led her into the palace, the crowd parting as they went. She ignored all of them and seemed to be focus on not tripping. Gangrel, at the very least, could relate to that. To suddenly be stuck in a position of great power was unsettling. He focused his first days learning how to actually walk in front of people, instead of skulking behind them and picking their pockets.

          What she mumbled under her breath, however, was what finally sealed the deal.

          “Why must there be so much sand,” she whispered aloud, before she realized that she had said and clamped her mouth shut.

          “I’ve always agreed. Too much sand. Quite sad, really, especially since we’re in the middle of a desert. It gets everywhere,” he replied nonchalantly. Her smile returned and she shook her head, hiding a soft chuckle.

          Gangrel smiled in return. The wedding could not come soon enough, he decided.

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place when Alecto meets Gangrel for the first time, and Gangrel's thoughts on the manner. You can find an illustration of the ending scene [here](http://thethinkingfruit.tumblr.com/post/138504447883/last-thing-from-january-that-happens-to-be-not).


End file.
